


The Vetting Process

by chasingriver



Series: Inception Bingo 2016 [1]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dubious Ethics, Face-Fucking, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, Power Dynamics, Public Nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-20 00:54:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7384528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chasingriver/pseuds/chasingriver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eames is an unknown quantity, and Saito wants to test the limits of his loyalty -- and his willingness to follow the rules. Eames just thinks he's being propositioned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fills the Inception Bingo kink prompt of "face-fucking."  
> This fic is standalone porn, but it will eventually be part of a much larger (and plottier) work which will involve a polyamorous relationship between Eames and Saito (a D/s relationship), and Arthur and Eames.
> 
> Many thanks to youcantsaymylastname for the all the brainstorming sessions, without which the larger AU surrounding this wouldn't exist, and thanks to kate_the_reader for the beta!
> 
> Please see the notes at the end for warnings regarding potential ethics and consent issues.

Saito dropped a neatly lettered piece of notepaper on the table as he left the rooftop patio with Cobb.

_“Bahari Beach Hotel, Room 501, 8pm”_

Eames watched his commanding figure as he walked into the building, and looked back down at the note. A thrill of excitement warmed his gut, and he smiled. He’d had worse offers.

Room 501 turned out to be the entire floor, the entrance flanked by an armed bodyguard. He frisked Eames for weapons and kept the handgun he found. Eames shrugged and gave him an amiable smile.

“He’s on the patio,” the guard said as he opened the door. Saito apparently had a fondness for patios.

Saito looked out over the ocean in the evening twilight. “Mr. Eames,” he said, without turning around.

“Mr. Saito.”

“Thank you for coming. I wanted to meet with you alone before committing to our business arrangement.”

“Oh?”

“I have already worked with Mr. Cobb, but you are more of an … unknown quantity.”

Eames couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. If all Saito had wanted was a business meeting, he could have said so before. “What would you like to know?”

“Join me.”

He moved next to him and glanced over the railing. Long way down if the discussion went poorly.

“Mr. Eames, I am a very generous employer, but I demand absolute loyalty. Have you heard about Mr. Nash?”

“Yes,” he said, an easy smile concealing his nerves, “word gets around.”

“Good. I want to make sure there’s no confusion about who your employer is, because it’s not Mr. Cobb.”

“No, I think it’s obvious you’re in control here,” Eames said, leaving the ‘because I’m still alive’ unspoken.

“Please, strip.”

“Sorry?” Eames said, thinking he’d misheard.

“Strip. Remove your clothes.”

“They already took my gun at the door.”

“I won’t ask you again.”

A frisson coursed through him. He’d been right, then: this wasn’t a business meeting. He glanced around nervously — they were outside and in full view of anyone who might be looking — but he knew better than to say anything.

He wasn’t sure if Saito wanted a show but figured he’d tell him if he did, so he disrobed quickly and efficiently, draping his clothes over the back of a patio chair. He paused for a second before removing his pants, a pair of boxer briefs tight enough to reveal that he was enjoying this — enough for his cock to be half-hard and heavy on his thigh.

Saito smirked. “Those too, Mr. Eames.”

He glanced around to check for observers, hoping Saito wouldn’t notice.

“Tell me, Mr. Eames, were you hoping for an audience?”

He breathed out heavily through his nose, hooked his fingers in his pants, and pushed them down over his hips. He stood in front of Saito, naked, and forced himself to meet his gaze.

“Very nice. Not what I was expecting. Turn around and stand with your legs apart.”

Embarrassment vied with arousal in his chest. He let out another breath and did as he said, cursing himself for enjoying it. No. Not for enjoying it, but for his body’s obviousness about it.

Saito’s hand, cool even in the Mombasa heat, lightly stroked across his ass cheek. His muscles tensed involuntarily at the touch. He ran his hand between his thighs, then reached through and cupped his balls, testing their weight. “Very nice,” he said again.

Eames fought the urge to say something. He’d never had his body assessed like a piece of meat before, and while part of him railed against it, another part of him loved the attention.

Saito walked around to face him, dragging one hand along his thigh and leaving one accusatory finger sitting lightly at the base of his erect cock. “It looks like you’re enjoying this, Mr. Eames.”

“So it would seem,” Eames said cheerily, because now was not the time to show weakness.

“I’m glad to hear it. Now come inside. We have business to conduct.”

“Is this how you conduct all your business meetings?”

Saito smiled and said nothing.

Once inside, he said, “You’ll find a copy of my medical records on the table. I assure you there’s no need for concern.”

“Oh,” Eames said, confused. “I brought condoms.”

“Very thoughtful, but we won’t be using them.”

Eames frowned. If being stripped naked on the balcony of a hotel hadn’t sent off his internal alarm that their meeting wasn’t going to plan, this did. He played it fast and loose with a lot of things in his life, but unprotected sex wasn’t one of them. It didn’t seem like Saito was the type who would either. He was here to get fucked, and it seemed like Saito —

“Perhaps you’re confused as to how I’ll be using you this evening.”

The words were like a punch to the gut. He couldn’t breathe, and his cock was so hard it ached. He nodded, not even sure there was a question. He just needed Saito to know he agreed. Agreed to whatever it was he was proposing.

_Using._ Why did that word make his legs weak?

“Kneel.”

Well, at least he wouldn’t have to worry about his legs. He sank to his knees, taking fast, shallow breaths. Saito, towering over him in the same light-gray suit he’d worn earlier the day, seemed completely unruffled.

“Now, Mr. Eames, I imagine you understand your purpose?” He traced a finger along Eames’ lips. “Are you willing?”

He darted his tongue out and wet the tip of Saito’s finger before moistening his lips. “Very.”

“Good.” Saito unzipped his trousers — his braces preventing their removal — and pushed down his boxers so they were underneath his balls. It crowded them up against his cock.

Eames gave it an appreciative look. Average girth, but on the long side with a slight upwards curve. Uncut. He reached out to take it so he could stroke him as he sucked, but Saito pushed his hand away.

“Hands behind your back, Mr. Eames. You won’t be needing them.”

Another thrill ran through his gut, and he wished for a moment he had his totem so he could check if this was real. But Saito’s cool hand on the back of his neck felt real enough. He opened his mouth as Saito fed him his cock.

The first part was easy enough. The weight of it on his tongue and the stretch of his jaw felt good. When he pushed in deeper and the tip of it hit his soft palate, he startled, fighting his gag reflex, and his hand automatically reached for Saito’s thigh for balance.

Saito backed off, but the grip on the back of his neck firmed up. “Now, Mr. Eames. Let’s try that again, shall we? I’m sure you can do better. Hm?”

Eames gave a small nod. He was sure he could do better as well, mortified he’d lost it so early on.

Saito kept his thrusts shallow then, fucking his face with a speed and brutal efficiency that surprised him. He kept his lips wrapped around his cock for as long as he could, but the friction started to make them sore, and he opened his mouth wider and let him take whatever he wanted. There was no illusion of control then, just slick skin thrusting into his mouth and his own spit dribbling helplessly down from the corners of his lips.

Saito’s thrusts became more erratic, and Eames braced himself, knowing what was about to happen. When it did, he dutifully swallowed him down. He knelt there, breathing hard, chin covered with spit, and the taste of Saito in his mouth. He wiped at his face with his thumb, and it came back slick with more than just spit.

“Well done, Mr. Eames. Thank you.” He took the silk pocket square from his suit and wiped off his cock, then held it out for Eames.

He stared for a moment, not sure why anyone would ruin a piece of silk when there was a perfectly good box of tissues next to the bed. He shrugged and took it. If Saito wanted to rack up dry cleaning bills, that was his business. He wiped off his mouth as well as he could. When he went to hand it back, he was met with an incredulous stare. Right. He put it on the floor.

“Thank you. That will be all,” Saito said, like he was dismissing a maid.

Eames looked around, as if expecting a punchline.

“You were expecting more, Mr. Eames?”

“Well, yes, now that you mention it.” Eames stood up, pointing at his erection. “Don’t I get a look in?” He thought he sounded remarkably calm given the situation.

“If you stay, you have to follow my rules. It might be wiser for you to leave.”

“I can follow rules when I have to, no matter what Cobb’s told you.”

“I’d hope Mr. Cobb knows nothing of these rules.”

“Right. Good point. Look, can’t I just finish myself off?”

It would only take him thirty seconds at most.

“My rules, Mr. Eames, and you might not always like them.”

The base of his cock throbbed, and he wasn’t sure if it was from what Saito had just said, or because he’d been hard for so long. Either way, it was a long way back to his flat. “I’ll take my chances.”

“Very well. You may finish yourself off.” He pulled out a pocket-watch from his waistcoat. “You have five minutes.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be done by then.”

“You misunderstood me, Mr. Eames. I won’t allow you to come for at _least_ five minutes.” He smiled, full of teeth. “You may start.”


	2. Chapter 2

That … that hadn’t been what he was expecting. 

Not at all. 

He’d made it back to his flat and collapsed on the bed, grinning from ear to ear. He rubbed at his jaw, which still ached a little from being used earlier, and the memory of it stirred delicious feelings in his gut that he’d never associated with a sore jaw before. 

Images burned in his mind: the way the plush carpet rubbed against his knees; Saito’s firm grip against the back of his neck. Hotter still, the delicious agony of being forced to stave off an orgasm for five minutes, when he’d been ready to come on the spot. 

His body still sang with it. And, as rare as it was these days, so soon after an orgasm, his cock was getting hard again. 

As if it hadn’t taken enough abuse the first time. 

Back with Saito, he’d had to grip himself so tightly it hurt in order to chase away his orgasm. Twice. He’d begged for release both times, and Saito had just chuckled and repeated, “My rules, Mr. Eames. My rules.” 

He was still trying to figure out why the concept of Saito’s rules had him so breathless. Rules were not something he was keen on, unless he was the one making them. 

He slid his hand into his trousers to squeeze his cock, hoping for some relief, but feeling oddly torn. His body thrummed with an energy he didn’t usually feel after an orgasm and he wanted to prolong it, not dull it with another one. 

He laughed out loud at the idea — of avoiding an orgasm — because … because of what? This rush? It probably wouldn’t last anyway. What was it, though? Just that he’d had sex with Saito? All that power and arrogance wrapped up in an expensive suit? No, that wasn’t it. Not that he had anything against an expensive suit. 

He thought back to when Saito had ordered him to strip. Ordered him to. His cock twitched as that registered. Had ordered him to his knees. _Oh no._ He felt lightheaded, heard the blood rush in his ears, his breaths shallow. His eyes drifted closed and he bit down on his lower lip in an effort to focus, but all he could see was the image of Saito towering over him, cock in hand, about to press it between Eames’ lips.

He took a deep, shuddering breath in an attempt to calm down enough to get his trousers off, then took himself in hand and started stroking furiously, determined to get the second orgasm he could feel waiting for him.

The lies he told himself flew as fast as his wrist. 

_You haven’t had good sex in a while; that’s why you’re on such a high._ Sex? That wasn’t sex. That was Saito using his mouth like a glory hole and then smirking at him while not letting him come. That was twisted, and sick, and … he’d loved it. He hadn’t come that hard in years. God. 

_You didn’t enjoy being made to strip. You just liked showing off your body. Can’t blame yourself for getting hard over that._ That was so blatantly untrue, he didn’t even have a comeback for it. Possibly the only thing he’d have enjoyed more was if Saito had made him do it at gunpoint. Christ, he was fucked up. 

He stopped trying to lie to himself. There was no way he could deny the thrill he’d felt when Saito had ordered him to his knees and told him he was there to use his mouth. The only part of the evening he regretted was the horrifying moment when he’d taken his cock too deep and his gag reflex had kicked in. It’d left him hoping for a second chance — for a number of reasons — but mainly to prove to Saito that he could take whatever he wanted from Eames. 

Christ, really? That wasn’t good for his self-preservation. 

His hand stilled and he fished around for his totem. Yes, this was real. His erection, despite what should have been sobering news, didn’t flag. His brain, for that matter, wasn’t too concerned about it either. It was still stuck on the ‘What can we do to get another invite from Saito?’ problem. 

He dropped his totem on the bed and started stroking himself again, but then thought better of it and gripped the base of his cock, hard. Hard enough to hurt and drive away his orgasm for the third time that night. He had an idea. A bloody stupid idea, but then this whole evening had been ridiculous, and postponing his orgasm before had made it spectacular when he finally had it, so it was worth the pain right now. And my _god_ he had to be crazy — but he wanted to see if he could do this.

He went into the kitchen and opened up the fridge, digging through the vegetable bin until he found the English cucumber he’d bought a few days previously. He refused to think about what he was doing, because then he’d have to face the fact that he was standing half-naked in his kitchen, about to peel a cucumber so he could fellate it.

He eyeballed it, judging it for the length of Saito’s cock, leaving the rest unpeeled so he could get a grip on it. The other portion was wet and slick — certainly not the same as the real thing, but not entirely different. _Not thinking about this. I’m not thinking about it._ It was a little thicker, but hey, if he could handle this, he could handle Saito. It wasn’t the girth he’d had problems with, after all, it was the length. _At least with this I don’t have to worry about teeth._

He got back to the bedroom and tried to remember what he’d heard about the best position to deep-throat in. Not that he’d ever tried or needed to. Until tonight, in all the blow-jobs he’d ever given, his partners had been … restrained. No one had ever taken him and used him like Saito had. And frankly, that had been exhilarating. The other times paled in comparison. 

He seemed to recall that it was easiest if you laid on the bed and let your head hang backwards off the edge, that it let your throat open up with the least resistance or something. He looked at the bed. _Yeah._ That was never going to happen. Saito would want him on his knees. And he’d _want_ to be on his knees. Might as well learn how to do this right or not at all. 

He grimaced as he knelt down. The thin rug on the hard tile floor was nowhere near as comfortable as the carpet in Saito’s hotel room. 

He closed his eyes, deliberately not looking at the cucumber as he brought it to his lips. He jumped as it touched them. It was cooler than he expected, slimy, and larger against his lips than he thought it would be. He forced himself to ignore the differences, put them out of his mind. He placed his other hand firmly behind his skull, just as Saito had, ensuring he had nowhere to go once the cock _(yes, cock — visualize, you idiot)_ invaded his mouth. 

With both hands busy, he wouldn’t have one for himself, but that wouldn’t be any different from his encounter with Saito. The thought made him harder. 

If he could take this in to where his hand gripped it, his face would be buried in Saito’s neatly-trimmed pubic hair, with his long cock shoved so far down his throat that Eames wouldn’t be able to breathe. 

It was good to have goals. 

**Author's Note:**

> Eames is being asked to prove his loyalty by providing sex. If you consider that situation to be of inherently dubious consent, please take note. However, Eames explicitly and enthusiastically consents. For me, the situation falls into the "dubious ethics" category.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at [chasingriversong](http://chasingriversong.tumblr.com).


End file.
